By enigmaticblue <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Don't sue.
Spoilers: I suppose through BtVS S5, but I'm doing some rearranging.
Summary: This is a sequel to "The Great Advantage of Being Alive." If you haven't read it, this one really won't make any sense. In any case, Spike's trying to find out what it means to be a man, and to fight at Buffy's side. Buffy's struggling with what it means to be the Slayer. Dawn wants to know if she's real, and Glory just really wants her Key back.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Archiving: The Sandlot, The Crypt, and anywhere else that already has my stuff.Otherwise, ask and it shall be given to you.
A/N: The title comes from a Pablo Neruda poem. The line actually goes "all
the graces of the daybreak" but I liked my pun.
A/N: I'm messing with the timeline of Angel S2 a bit, as
you can probably tell. Oh, and before you ask where Lorne's at, they dropped
him off at home before heading back to the hotel. Just so you know.
Chapter 21: Here Without You
"...Everything I know, and anywhere I go/It gets hard but it won't take away my love/And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done/It gets hard but it won't take away my love/I'm here without you baby/But you're still on my lonely mind/I think about you baby and I dream about you all the time...And tonight, girl, there's only you and me." ~3 Doors Down, "Here Without You"
"I miss you."
"It's only been a few hours, luv," Spike said, adding quickly, "an' I miss you too."
Buffy lay back on her bed, hanging onto the cell phone as tightly as she wished she could hang onto him. "So you don't know when Angel's going to come back?"
"Dunno, luv. Don't even really know where he went, 'cept that it's not here. Some other dimension seems to have swallowed up the Cheerleader," Spike sighed. "Right now 's just about getting ready for whatever comes. Think we'll stay at the hotel for a while. Angel doesn't come back in a few days, we'll reconsider."
"So where are you now?" Buffy asked.
"Now?" There was some surprise in Spike's voice. "'m in Angel's office."
"And what are you wearing?"
Spike was beginning to catch on. "What you saw me leave in. What about you?"
"Well, since you weren't here, I decided on the flannel pj's tonight," Buffy replied. "But that could be changed."
"Mmmm..." Spike purred, leaning back in the chair. "How quickly?"
~~~~~
Dawn shoved her hair behind her ear as she munched another slice of pizza. "Okay, so we're going to booby-trap down here first."
They had spent the day exploring the hotel, gathering the necessary supplies, and exploring their options for defense. Even though it seemed that they had a workable plan, both Spike and Dawn were on edge. "No, first we're goin' to work out an escape plan," Spike replied. "In case somethin' happens to me, you—"
"I'm not going anywhere without you," Dawn stated bluntly. "I don't care what you say."
"Dawn—"
"No." Dawn glared at him. "Besides, you're still hurt. What the hell do you think you could do?"
"Language, Dawn," he warned her. "And you'll do what I say."
"You're not the boss of me."
"You wanna bet?"
The battle was averted when the door swung open, causing both of them to startle. "I want to say it," Angel's voice broke in. "There's no place like...home," he finished uncertainly when he spotted his unexpected guests. "Spike? Are you okay? What—Is Buffy—"
Angel—as well as his entire gang—looked hard-used, with the possible exception of Cordelia, who was wearing some sort of strange get-up that left nothing to the imagination.
"She's fine," Spike assured him. "At least, she was last night when I talked to her. 's just—we have a bit of a problem. I was hopin' you'd be able to help."
"Yeah, sure," Angel replied quickly. "Whatever you need." The tall, thin man behind Angel cleared his throat. "Uh, if that's okay with Wes."
Spike recognized the name, but not the face. "Thought you were the boss here," he said cautiously.
"Yeah," Angel replied, looking a little sheepish. "That changed. It's sort of a long story."
Spike and Dawn exchanged doubtful looks. The rules were changing so rapidly, Spike wasn't quite sure what to think. If Angel wasn't in charge, and he didn't know any of the others, should they stay?
"Oh, don't be stupid, Angel," Wesley said irritably. "It's not like I would refuse aid to the Slayer or her friends and family." The ex-Watcher looked over at Spike. "But do you mind terribly if we get cleaned up before hearing your story?" He eyed the pizza. "And maybe a bite to eat."
Dawn shrugged when Spike looked over at her. "I could eat more pizza."
"Or tacos?" Suggested a timid little voice. "I've been cravin' tacos somethin' fierce."
Cordelia rolled her eyes with barely restrained annoyance. "I'm not sure we can find a taco place that will deliver, Fred."
Spike, ignoring Cordelia, gave that request careful consideration. "Your kitchen work, Peaches?"
The tall, black man snickered. "Peaches?"
Angel gave Spike a dirty look, not caring for his using that particular nickname in front of the others. "Yeah, why?"
"Because if someone'll go to the store, I can whip up some tacos."
Angel's eyebrows looked as though they were going to be permanently attached to his hairline. "You can cook?"
"I have to eat," Spike replied reasonably. "An' out of all of you lot, I'm freshest."
The vampire gave him a look. "You don't look very fresh," he observed. "In fact, you look like you got run over by a truck. Are you sure you shouldn't be lying down?"
Ignoring that inane comment, Spike looked over those assembled. "Anybody want to go to the store?"
"I'll go," Wesley volunteered. "I was planning on going back to my place for some clean clothing anyway. It won't take me long."
"I can help cook," the dark-haired girl behind Cordelia offered. "At least, I think I can. If I remember how. It's been a while."
"We'll ease you back in," Spike promised. "An' your name would be...?"
She giggled. "Fred."
"Well, Fred, we'll leave the rest of this lot to get cleaned up an' see what awaits us in back." With the kind of studied gallantry that had won Tara over, Spike held out his arm, causing Fred to giggle like mad. But she clutched his arm, and Dawn strolled on her other side, and for some reason the young woman was relaxing rapidly in their company.
Angel watched Spike take over with an airy manner he found irritating. The younger vampire had always been able to do that—walk into a room, look over the occupants, and have everyone eating out of his hand in moments. It just wasn't fair. What had happened to the eager young vampire who had been willing to sit at the feet of the master?
Angel sighed, rubbing his eyes. That's right. He'd only been willing until Angelus had tried to break him, and Spike would not be broken. It was the kind of vampire he had been, the kind of man he was now. Cordy's hand touched his arm, breaking him out of his thoughts.
"I'm just going to go get some clothes for me and Fred, okay? You mind if I borrow your car?"
"Why not?" Angel asked. "I guess I'll just—clean up," he finished, looking around. It seemed he'd been deserted after the warm camaraderie over the last few days.
Cordelia rolled her eyes at him, catching his glum look. "Give me a break, Angel. All of us need a chance to catch our breath before heading into the next emergency. Don't be such a dope."
Angel paused, watching her leave, then hearing the mad giggles from the kitchen. Whatever Spike was doing back there, Fred sounded happy. He had to give the man credit for that. He grunted. It seemed he had to give the man credit for a lot of things these days.
~~~~~
Spike had picked up a few things earlier when he and Dawn went to get the pizza. They'd needed a few supplies for the traps he was planning to set, and he'd wanted something other than leftover pizza to eat the next few days.
There weren't enough ingredients for tacos, though, and Fred was waxing poetic about what she wanted in hers. "My mom used to make 'em really spicy, with lots of cheese, and lettuce, and maybe tomotoes. I don't remember." She frowned, as though remembering hurt.
"I don't much remember what my mom cooked," Spike said gently. "We all forget bits an' pieces like that."
The woman thought about that. "Maybe, but I was gone such a long time." For a moment, she looked as though she would bolt, and Dawn slid an arm around her.
"All my memories are fake," she said helpfully.
That statement sufficiently distracted Fred. "Fake memories?" she asked, perking right up. "How does that work? I mean, laws of physics, an' all—"
She was soon babbling in what seemed to be another language, but Spike caught enough of it to realize that Fred was a science nerd of the first water. He needed to remember to introduce the girl to Willow. They'd probably get along just swimmingly.
Angel came strolling into the kitchen a few moments later, raising an eyebrow at Spike. "Did you pick up anything to drink?"
"Can you eat pizza and not have beer?" Spike returned, tossing him a bottle from the counter.
"It's warm," the vampire complained.
Spike stared at him as though he'd grown a second head. "Are you daft? Have you completely forgotten your roots? Beer is supposed to be warm. Bloody Yanks messin' it up," he grumbled.
"I would second that," Wesley commented, entering the kitchen, wearing fresh clothing and carrying a bag of groceries, closely followed by Gunn, who had his own bag. "I wasn't quite sure what you'd need—"
Spike peeked in both the bags and gave a satisfied grunt. "'s fine. Brilliant. Now we can get started, an' you lot can tell me what Angel did to get himself demoted."
Angel scowled. "I did not get demoted."
"No, he just fired all of us, and then asked us to rehire him 'cause he couldn't get a job anywhere else," Gunn joked, accepting one of the beers, but grimacing at its temperature.
"That right?" Spike asked, interested. "An' why on earth would you fire such fine folks as these?"
Seeing the grins that both Wesley and Gunn wore, Angel's scowl deepened. He was beginning to remember exactly why he'd found Spike so irritating in the first place. "I was—going through a rough period."
"If that's code for midlife crisis, you should have passed that a long time ago," Cordy said acerbically as she walked into the kitchen. "Hey, Fred, do you want to get into some decent clothing?"
When the young woman hesitated, Dawn stood. "Come on. If Cordelia's stuff doesn't fit, maybe I have something that will." She shot Spike a look. "We'll be down in a few minutes. Do not start eating without us."
"So? You're not in charge because...?" Spike asked the vampire, starting to prep the food.
Wesley smiled. "Yes, Angel. You should be the one to explain. After all, we weren't really privvy to what was going through your head at the time." That little comment was in part payback for Angel embarrassing him by buying Cordy all those clothes.
Angel sighed, resigned to telling his sordid tale. Dawn, Cordelia, and Fred all came at about the time Angel was explaining about setting Drusilla and Darla on fire. When Dawn caught that part of the conversation, she asked, "You could have dusted Drusilla and you didn't?"
The entire group looked surprised at her sharp tone, and Spike shot her a look. "Dawn—"
"I want to know," she said stubbornly. "Spike—"
"It's fine."
"Did you have trouble with Drusilla in Sunnydale?" Wesley asked.
Dawn glared at Angel. "You could say that. She almost managed to turn Spike. It's a miracle he's not a vampire right now."
There was a long silence in which all eyes were on the vampire. "Spike, I'm sorry. I didn't—"
"It's done," Spike said. "Drusilla's the least of our concerns at the moment." He started setting the food out on the industrial counter. "You lot dish up, an' I'll fill you in."
It was around about the time Fred consumed her fifth taco that Angel started to feel really sulky. Not only did he feel left out because he was the only one not eating, but because everyone was listening to Spike talk about Glory.
And he was good at it.
Even though there was serious danger from a Hellgod, and Dawn was some mystical Key, and Buffy could very shortly be fighting for her life, Spike told the story in such a way as to make it sound almost funny. All of them—except for Angel—were laughing at points, especially when he described Olaf the Troll. Angel had had the people of Pylea eating out of his hand too, but he had to admit that Spike was the better storyteller.
Spike was also the better cook, he was getting a book published, and he and Buffy were engaged. (Angel could tell the first for himself, but the second two pieces of information came from a helpful Dawn. He wasn't sure why the girl didn't like him, but Angel was definitely beginning to get that vibe.)
"You'll help?" Spike asked. "Don't expect anyone to come chasin' us down here, but you never know."
"Of course we'll help," Wesley assured him. "It's our pleasure."
~~~~~
Things were a little more hectic in Sunnydale. There was barely twenty-four hours in between Spike and Dawn's departure and Glory showing up at the Magic Box, hell-bent on getting her Key.
Willow was intent on trying to find a cure for Tara, and had been up all night looking through books and taking care of her girlfriend. There was a pile of tomes at her elbow, and she was busily looking through another, searching for any clue at all as to how to help Tara and hurt Glory at the same time.
"How's it coming?" Buffy asked, sitting down next to her friend.
Willow gave the Slayer a weak grin. "It's coming. I mean, I think I've got some ideas, but nothing's for sure. I don't think anyone's ever tried this before."
"That's Willow—going where no man has ever gone before," Xander said, smiling. Then, at the looks from the girls, he quickly added, "Or woman, you know, because I'm all about being gender inclusive." His eyes strayed to Tara, who was sitting on a chair, huddled in her pajamas, and muttering about the dark. As much as he wanted to help, Xander was pretty much at a loss. He had no clue how to deal with crazy people, or how to help Willow find the right spell, or how to help Buffy defeat Glory.
At least Spike got to play an important role by getting Dawn away. Xander had no idea what he was going to contribute.
Buffy shook her head and sighed. "I don't know what we're going to do," she admitted. "I mean, Dawn's safe enough for right now. I doubt there's any way Glory could get her hands on the Key at this point, but that just means we have to find some way to defeat her. How the hell am I supposed to kill a god?"
Giles came out of the back room, rubbing his eyes. "I'm not sure you have to kill her, Buffy."
"Say again?" the Slayer asked. "Because I don't know of any other way to stop her from destroying the world."
"I was just on the phone with Wesley," Giles said. "Apparently, I need to revise my opinion of him."
Buffy's eyebrows went straight up. "Really?"
"He has access to texts that I don't," Giles said. "He's managed to build up quite a collection in L.A., and has a rather good memory for locating information, amazingly enough. What he's been able to discover is that the Key is only efficacious for a very small window of time. Given the opportunity, Glory would need to shed Dawn's blood at a specific place and time to open the portal back to her own world."
"So what you're saying is that Glory just wants to go home," Xander commented. "That's not so bad."
Giles shook his head. "It would also break down all the barriers between other dimensions and ours, causing chaos. And the only way to close the portal would be to stop the blood flow—to kill Dawn."
"Not going to happen," Buffy said coldly. "Even if she did get her hands on Dawn."
The Watcher sighed, more thankful than ever that Dawn was safe in L.A. with Spike. Convincing the Slayer that the best way to save the world was to kill her little sister was one thing. Convincing Joyce, or even broaching the subject was another matter altogether. "Well, I doubt Glory will manage to locate her in time. And, once that window of opportunity has passed, Dawn continues on as human, and Glory is permanently tied to her human host. She essentially becomes mortal."
Willow looked excited. "So we just have to keep her occupied until the window passes."
"Essentially," Giles agreed. "Of course, we don't really know when that point is." He was interrupted when the door to the shop crashed open.
"I'm tired of playing games," Glory announced. "I want my Key, and I want it now. And if you don't give it to me, I'm going to rip your guts out one by one." At the long pause that followed that announcement, she said impatiently, "Come on, people. I'm on a schedule here, and it's not nice to keep a god waiting."
Buffy grabbed the first weapon that came to hand: Olaf's hammer, which lay on a shelf. "You guys get out of here," she ordered. "I'll keep the bitch busy."
"Bitch?" Glory demanded. "Oh, you're going to pay for that!" Before she could say anything more, Buffy cut her off with a swing of the troll-hammer, sending her flying through the door.
Willow scooped up a couple of books she thought might be helpful, and tried to soothe a whimpering Tara. Anya emerged from the basement of the shop. "What's going on?"
"Glory," Giles explained shortly. "We need to get out of here."
Anya viewed the damage to the front door with dismay and then held up the dimly glowing sphere. "Dagon Sphere," she said. "If it was created to repel Hellgods, it might be helpful."
"Brilliant," Giles commended her. "But not now."
Xander grabbed her arm and started to hustle her out the back. "Yeah. It's definitely time to go, An."
Outside, in front of the shop, Buffy was doing battle with Glory and wasn't doing too badly. The Hellgod, on the other hand, was royally pissed off. Time was running out for her to get her Key, and she made a decision. "You know," she said, in between blows from the hammer, and getting in her own shots, "I'm really getting tired of this. I think it might be time for me to kill you. Then, I can just torture your little friends until one of them gives me the information I want."
"You can try," Buffy retorted. "But it doesn't look like you're doing so hot right now."
Glory gave her an uppercut that sent the Slayer flying. "Oh yeah? How's that, bitch?"
"That tickled," Buffy replied, a fire in her eyes as she fought her way to a standing position. "Of course, if you want to kill me, you're going to have to catch me first." With that, the Slayer took off at a run, not bothering to look over her shoulder to see if Glory was following. She knew the Hellgod wouldn't be able to resist the chase.
Buffy just had to hope she could last long enough for the others to get somewhere safe. And that Giles made certain that her mom did the same.
~~~~~
Spike and Wesley were both bent over a book, though not the same one. After Spike's tale, the ex-Watcher had immediately gone into research-mode, muttering about seeing something about Glory and the Knights of Byzantium in one of his texts. When he'd started pulling volumes down off the shelves, Spike had volunteered to help.
Dawn was off somewhere in the hotel, entertaining Fred, Cordelia was on the computer, looking up information on the 'net, and Angel and Gunn were preparing the defenses—just in case.
Spike wished he could have been putting his plans for booby traps to good use, but his broken ribs made that a difficult task at best. He would have managed had Angel and the gang not returned, but as the vampire had pointed out, Spike needed to be as fresh as possible.
Which had him on book-duty.
"Here's something," Wesley said. "It seems that Glory needs to use this Key at a particular time and place, otherwise it won't be of any use to her." The other man's eyes were alive with hope behind his glasses. "Judging from your report of the agitation Glory was showing, I doubt that she has much time left."
"Which just makes it that much more dangerous for Buffy as she gets frustrated," Spike muttered, pulling off his glasses and pinching his nose. "Bloody hell. Well, might as well call Rupert an' let him know. 's somethin' anyway."
Wesley gave him a sympathetic look. "It's difficult being here, knowing Buffy could be in danger."
"'Difficult' is one word for it," Spike replied with a pained smile. "Torture would prob'ly be more accurate."
"I'll call Rupert, unless you want to," Wesley offered.
"You go ahead," Spike replied. "You found the information. You should get the credit."
They kept researching, taking only a quick break for lunch, which Cordelia and Gunn had gone out to get. Fred was actually relaxed enough to eat with the rest of them, possibly because Dawn was animatedly explaining the latest Tom Cruise movie.
Spike threw himself back into research, trying to distract himself from thoughts of Buffy facing Glory on her own.
Between he and Wesley, they'd managed to discover that the Knights were a fanatical religious sect, the complete opposite of the monks who had created Dawn in the first place. Though both orders were pledged to keep the Key from Glory, the Knights were a militant order, while the monks were dedicated to peace.
That was it, though. There wasn't any information on how to kill Glory, or if it was even possible. Spike shut his book with a bang. "Bloody hell, there's nothing in here that's helpful."
Wesley leaned back in his own chair. "Perhaps you're right. We could go see how Angel and Gunn are coming with the defenses."
"Done," Gunn announced as he came through the door. "Anything shows up, they'll get a nice big surprise." As if to underscore his words, there was a howl of pain from outside. "What the hell—"
"Spike!" Dawn's voice was coming from upstairs, and Spike moved as quickly as he could through the lobby to see what was going on. "There are a bunch of guys in armor outside! I think they have the same tattoos on their heads as that guy in the hospital."
Spike didn't have to ask her what she was talking about, knowing immediately which "guy in the hospital" she was referring to. It meant the Knights knew that Dawn was the Key. Angel came pounding up from the basement, sword in hand just a few moments later. "Looks like they've got the hotel surrounded," he announced without preamble.
"Can we get out through the sewers?" Spike asked.
"Maybe," Angel said. "Probably. But they'll just find you again. For right now, we're safer making a stand here at the hotel where we can watch each other's backs."
"Angel's right," Wesley stated. "If we can manage to hold them off for a few hours until it gets dark, that would be best. After that, we can reconsider."
Spike looked up. Dawn was standing on the stairs only a few feet away from him. She was his responsibility, his to care for. Joyce had entrusted her youngest into his hands—and now he was going to place his own life and hers into the hands of virtual strangers. "Right then. Let's just hope that we in no way resemble Custer."
Gunn raised an eyebrow. "Don't know 'bout you, but I ain't got the right color skin for that. I think we're playin' the role of the natives in this one."
Spike frowned, and then a gradual smile broke over his face. "Right. Natives. I think we can sew this up right quick."
~~~~~
Buffy made it back to the house on Revello Drive in one piece, more or less. She was out of breath, and she'd gotten a few nasty bruises, but that was about it. The damage could have been a lot worse. "Where's Glory?" Giles asked, getting to his feet as Buffy came through the front door.
"I don't know," Buffy confessed. "I led her on a wild goose chase, and then she got hit by a bus. I don't think she got up, at least not soon enough to catch me."
Giles shook his head. "We cannot keep this up indefinitely, Buffy."
"We don't need to keep it up indefinitely," the Slayer replied. "Just long enough to keep Glory busy. Long enough to make sure Dawn is safe."
Giles took his glasses off and started polishing the lenses. "Then what do you think we ought to do now?"
Buffy sighed. "I think we should hide for a while. I don't know where, but—"
"What about that old mansion Spike took us to a few weeks ago?" Joyce suggested, coming in from the kitchen. She was still using a cane to walk, but her mobility was much improved.
Giles looked vaguely hopeful. "That's not a bad idea, Buffy. It's out of the way, and there's little chance Glory will know to look there if we can make our way over without being spotted. Plus, there's the fact that it's rather far removed from innocents. Should we need to make a stand, that's as good a place as any."
Xander appeared behind Joyce. "Why can't we plan for maximum distraction?" he suggested. "Angel won't care if we blow up the mansion, right?"
Buffy hesitated and then grinned broadly. "I doubt it. It's not like he ever uses the place. Okay, Xander, you get together what you're going to need. Major explosives aren't going stop Glory, but it will definitely be a distraction. And if we can lure her somewhere else, that's even better. We just need to build a better mouse trap." The Slayer hefted the troll hammer she'd stopped to pick up on her way back home. "Maybe we'll manage to hit a home run this time."
By enigmaticblue <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Don't sue.
Spoilers: I suppose through BtVS S5, but I'm doing some rearranging.
Summary: This is a sequel to "The Great Advantage of Being Alive." If you haven't read it, this one really won't make any sense. In any case, Spike's trying to find out what it means to be a man, and to fight at Buffy's side. Buffy's struggling with what it means to be the Slayer. Dawn wants to know if she's real, and Glory just really wants her Key back.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Archiving: The Sandlot, The Crypt, and anywhere else that already has my stuff.Otherwise, ask and it shall be given to you.
A/N: The title comes from a Pablo Neruda poem. The line actually goes "all
the graces of the daybreak" but I liked my pun.
Chapter 22: All the Graces of the Dawn
"As we close this nocturnal door, my love,/come with
me, through the shadowy places./ Close your dreams, Love, enter my eyes with
your skies,/spread out through my blood like a wide river...Into this ship, or
water, or death, or new life,/we are united again, asleep, resurrected:/we are
the night's marriage in the blood./I don't know who it is who lives or dies,
who rests or wakes,/but it is your heart that distributes/all the graces of
the daybreak in my breast." ~Pablo Neruda, Sonnet LXXXII
"Buggers are all medieval," Spike was explaining. "Back then, standard for warfare was to stand an' fight, bash at each other with everythin' you've got. Won't know what to do with guerilla warfare, yeah?" Their first step had been to barricade the entrances, making sure no one could get in without their knowing about it. Gunn had set the triggers on the traps around the doors as well. There seemed to be little chance that they would be surprised.
Spike noticed that Wesley's skin had gone slightly pale at the mention of "guerilla warfare," but the ex-Watcher nodded. "It might work. There are quite a few of them, however. I'm not certain we'll be able to pick off enough of them to make any difference, not when we're so outnumbered."
"We won't have to," Angel said. "If we take care of the leaders, it might cause enough confusion that we'll be able to retreat, sit tight somewhere for a while."
The conversation was taking place while they sifted through the weapons in the cabinet. There was another howl from outside, and Gunn smirked. "Yeah, that would be me."
"Spike?" He looked over into Dawn's huge eyes.
"'s gonna be just fine, Niblet," he assured her. Spike looked over at Angel. "Maybe the Cheerleader should take the Bit an' Fred through the sewers."
"I don't know my way around," Cordelia immediately protested. "Besides, I'm not leaving you guys." Then, looking over at Dawn, she quickly added, "Unless I absolutely have to, of course."
"'Course," Spike agreed, giving Dawn a little smile. "Niblet? If I give you a knife, think you could avoid cuttin' yourself with it?"
She rolled her eyes, holding out her hand impatiently. To everyone's surprise, Fred picked up an ax. "Don't know that I'll be any use, but I want to help."
"You're a big help, Fred," Angel assured her.
Fred frowned. "You know, we could use the laws of physics in our favor."
Spike could see her brain start to work overtime. "Dawn, I want you to listen to Fred. She gets a plan, you help her out with what you can, yeah?"
"Okay," the girl agreed.
"Angel's pretty much stuck inside until nightfall," Cordelia observed, hefting a crossbow. "So what are we gonna do?"
All of them exchanged glances. "Kill or capture the officers," Wesley said quietly. "If we could capture one of them, we might manage to talk sense into them."
Another howl of pain from outside where yet another one of them tried to cross the courtyard and triggered one of Gunn's booby traps seemed to suggest that logic was not one of their strong points. Spike shrugged. "We can try."
~~~~~
The mansion had been a good choice for a place to hide out—too good, as far as Buffy was concerned. Glory hadn't managed to find them, and so about the only thing she'd had to do was help Willow look after Tara.
"We're going to have to look for Glory at some point," Willow whispered quietly. Tara was sleeping now, helped along by the pills the doctor had given her. "I think I can help her, but I'm actually going to have to be in physical contact."
Buffy sighed. "I know. Hopefully, we'll have some sort of sign that lets us know the end is nigh or something. I wonder if Spike is okay."
"Call him," Willow urged. "It's been really quiet. I think you could take a few minutes."
Buffy looked around. Giles and her mom were cuddled up to one another, obviously enjoying a private moment. Xander and Anya were nowhere to be seen, and Buffy had a feeling that she didn't want to know what was going on. Not that Anya wouldn't say something about it later.
She found a quiet corner, away from everyone else, and hit speed dial. "Hey."
"Buffy." He sounded distracted. "This might not be the best time, luv."
"Why?"
"Got a bit of a problem here. Nothin' we can't handle."
That wasn't what the Slayer wanted to hear. "What kind of problem?" she demanded.
"Remember those knights you chased off a while back?"
Buffy swore a blue streak, calling up words and phrases that Spike had no idea she knew. "How bad is it, Spike?"
"I've got backup," he replied. "You probably know by now Angel and company are back in town. We'll get it taken care of."
She sighed. "If you can hang on for a while, I'll get up there as soon as I can."
"Not much you can do, luv," Spike replied. "Don't worry 'bout it. We'll take care of things."
"I think Glory's getting antsy," Buffy said. "It shouldn't take long."
"Gotta go, pet. I love you."
"Love you too," Buffy said, and then she heard the chime that told her he'd hung up.
Nothing was ever simple.
~~~~~
Spike hadn't known what to think when Angel and his gang had shown up. Not that he wasn't grateful for the help, but the only ones he'd had any kind of feel for were Angel and Cordelia. Both Gunn and Wesley were unknown elements, although the fact that the ex-Watcher was now in charge, and that Angel and the others trusted him, were points in his favor.
What clinched his respect for both men, however, was watching them go out into the horde of Knights and come back with a thick-set man, his tattoo more elaborate than any others Spike had seen so far. "I think we may have managed to locate the general," Wesley commented.
"Yeah," Gunn said, his face showing his derision. "Idiot had a big flag right above him. Was like saying, 'Hey, come and get me.'"
"Good work," Angel said, watching in surprise as Spike pulled a knife out of nowhere. A really big knife.
Spike's eyes glittered. "Why don't we secure our friend so we can have a nice chat, yeah?" His face still hurt, it was painful to breathe, and yet it all faded away. Spike had a mission—save the girl. Nothing—not even his own human weakness—was going to get in the way of that.
Gunn and Wesley tied him up and Spike drifted closer. "So, want to tell me why you're here, an' why you're botherin' me an' my friends."
"You have the Key," the general replied. There was madness in his eyes.
Spike shrugged. "An' what gave you that idea?"
"One of my men identified her as the Slayer's sister. It is our duty to prevent the Beast from finding the Key."
Spike rolled his eyes. "I was doin' just fine without your help. Besides, Glory's in Sunnydale, an' she doesn't know where her Key is at, 'less your lot was followed."
There was a flicker of something in the man's eyes—it might have been intelligent thought—but it was soon gone. "The Key is the Link, the Link must be severed. Such is the will of God."
"She's innocent in all this," Spike growled.
"The link must be severed."
"Why don't you all go sever Glory?" Spike demanded.
"Or we could sever him," Angel suggested from his position on the sidelines. "That could be fun."
There was a small spark of fear in the general's eyes—very small. If Spike hadn't been looking for it, he wouldn't have seen it. A cruel smile graced his face. "You see," he murmured. "I was a very bad man, once upon a time. Committed atrocities you can't even imagine. And I'll commit 'em all on you an' your men for the sake of that girl."
"You can do whatever you like with me," the general replied, tilting his chin up. "We have our duty."
"An' I'll slit their throats from behind in the dark," Spike said, his eyes just a little wild. "I'll stick your head on a pike outside this very hotel. You don't want to know what I'm capable of."
They engaged in a staring contest, and the general was the first to look away. Angel and the others watched with a sense of trepidation. Of all of them, only the vampire had seen Spike this way, long ago. Angel had to admit to feeling a tinge of fear when Spike got crazy—he'd been known to do some damage in his time.
The railroad spikes were a mark of genius, as he remembered.
That was the thing about Spike. He was into the kill, but it was more about the blood and the violence, the fight and the thrill of the moment. Unlike Angelus, who liked to take his time with things, Spike didn't have the patience. Impulsive, thy name is Spike.
But Angel remembered after he'd been turned, after he'd learned what he was capable of, he'd gone after those who had wounded him one by one. He'd gone after them and had made them pay dearly.
He had reinvented himself.
Now, with the threat against Dawn's life, the vampire knew better than to underestimate Spike's willingness to wreak havoc. He wasn't kidding—Spike would slit every one of their throats and bathe in their blood, and he would enjoy every moment of it.
As much as he hated to admit it, Angel was feeling a little nostalgic.
Spike smiled, and there was no mercy in the expression. "So. You gonna wait for the Slayer to kill Glory, or are we gonna have to do this the hard way?"
For a moment it looked as though the general might actually see reason, but the moment passed. His jaw set, the man repeated, "The Key is the Link. The Link must be severed. Such is the will of God."
Spike nodded once, as though he'd suspected as much. "Cordelia, be a luv an' take Dawn upstairs."
The woman looked at Angel, who nodded once, his face set. "Go on, Cordy. Take Fred with you."
Spike waited until he was sure that Dawn was gone, and then slit the general's bonds with one swift motion. The man looked shocked, but not for long. Spike soon had him in a chokehold, his forearm nearly choking him.
Ignoring his protesting ribs, Spike hauled the general to the front doors of the hotel, expertly avoiding the tripwires on the booby traps. The Knights were crammed into the courtyard, obviously at a loss now that their general had been taken. It was as Spike had suspected: strike the head from the snake, and it's all over.
It was what he planned on doing now.
"See your general!" he cried out in a loud voice. "I tried to reason with him. I told him that the Slayer will defeat the Beast and bring proof that she's dead. Instead, he said he was going to kill the Key, a girl I have been sworn to protect. This is what happens to those who threaten the Key."
The knife flashed brightly, briefly, and then was stained red with the general's blood. Spike hadn't cut his throat; he had, instead, sliced him across the belly. It was a mortal wound, but it promised a hard, lingering death, not a swift one.
He let the general fall, gasping like a fish out of water, and stood like a sentinel in the doorway. "I will kill every man here," he said, and it was not a threat. "I will not stop until every one of you is dead if you even threaten that girl again."
"The Beast must be stopped!" cried one of the Knights from the midst of the crowd.
"The Slayer will stop her. It is none of your affair any longer." Spike spared a glance for the man lying at his feet, blood spreading in a pool around him, his insides visible through his fingers. "Next time," he promised, "I won't be quite so charitable."
It wasn't until he'd gotten inside the hotel that Spike began to shake. He sat down on the stairs hard, allowing Wesley to rescue the knife from his nerveless fingers. The ex-Watcher cleaned the blade expertly, though silently, and then handed it back.
"I'd do it," Spike said. "Meant what I said. I'd kill every man out there before they harmed one hair on Dawn's head."
Gunn was silent, staring. Though he was no stranger to difficult decisions, he didn't think he'd ever seen someone do something like that. Angel was quiet, coming over to stand close, almost hovering. He'd seen Spike like that before, when anyone had threatened Drusilla. "You did what had to be done."
Spike wasn't so sure. Oh, there was a part of him that knew there was no other way to get the Knights' attention, to prevent them from attacking the hotel, but still—
The problem was that he had it in him—he could have killed every man out there and done it with a smile on his face and a song in his heart.
After all, no one threatened his girls.
"Perhaps you should get cleaned up," Wesley suggested softly. "You might feel better."
Spike nodded and levered himself off the ground, realizing belatedly that Angel had held out a hand to help him. "Ta," he murmured. "I'll just be—"
"Take your time, man," Gunn said quietly.
Spike nodded, and then stopped when he heard Angel's voice. "Spike—this doesn't change who you are."
He looked back at the vampire in surprise, as that idea hadn't even crossed his mind. "I know that, Peaches. Violence is always there, no matter how much we like to pretend otherwise. 's just—I'd almost forgotten it's a part of me."
Almost.
~~~~~
They had spent the last day and a half making preparations, Buffy keeping an anxious ear out for her cell phone. She kept waiting for Spike to call her and tell her that he'd taken care of things and all was well.
She didn't like to think about any of the other reasons someone might call.
Xander, much to everyone's surprise, including his own, had managed to "bake a cake." Buffy didn't get the reference, but the carpenter got such a smug look when he said it, she had to grin herself. Luckily for all of them, it was a moveable bomb with a timer.
And Tara was quite obviously getting restless.
Buffy could feel the tension herself. It always felt this way right before a big battle—like everything was going in slow motion and fast forward at the same time. It was getting difficult to restrain the blonde witch, and the general consensus was that they'd end up following her to wherever she led them, hoping it would be right to Glory's doorstep.
Once they got there, Buffy would have the Dagon Sphere and troll-hammer. Xander would have his "cake." And Willow would hopefully do her mojo to help Tara.
"Buffy!" Willow's tone was urgent. "I think it's time."
They were ready—Buffy could see it in her friends faces as she looked over them as a general surveys her troops. "Be careful, honey," her mom said.
"I always am," Buffy said, thankful that Dawn was with Spike and the gang in L.A., that her mom would be safe enough here for the time being.
It would be enough. It had to be.
~~~~~
Spike couldn't sleep, although it had nothing to do with killing a man and everything to do with his ribs hurting. The afternoon's activities had renewed pain that had subsided. He slipped out of his room only to find Dawn waiting for him in the hallway.
"Niblet? What are you doin' up?"
She stared at him with wide eyes. "Did you kill him?"
"Kill who?"
"The general." There was a long moment of silence as Spike debated telling her the truth. "Because if you did, I'm glad," Dawn said fiercely.
Spike swallowed. "Dawn, luv—"
"I'm glad," she repeated, but there were tears in her eyes. It was a hard thing to be fifteen and have people dying only because you existed.
Spike nodded, because he couldn't think of anything to say in response. He ran a gentle hand down her hair, down her cheek, reminding himself that this girl was worth a million Knights of Byzantium, if only because he loved her. "Go back to bed now, Dawn," he said gently, and watched as she left.
He wandered downstairs to find a light on in Angel's office and Wesley seated behind the desk. "Spike," the other man greeted him. "Is everything alright?"
"Couldn't sleep," was the short explanation. "An' you?"
"I volunteered for the first watch," Wesley replied. "I had some doubts as to my own ability to sleep tonight."
Neither man said anything else for a while, and silence descended on the hotel. It felt thick, heavy. "Do you think they will attack?"
Spike glanced over at the ex-Watcher. "No," he said softly. "I think I made an impression."
"I would imagine," Wesley said, some irony in his tone. "Are you—quite alright?"
Spike paused, giving the question its due weight. Tonight he was alright because there was a girl upstairs whose life depended upon him. In a week, or two, however, Spike was aware that he would most likely wake from nightmares, remembering how it felt to draw the blade across flesh, to watch the blood flow. He would ask himself if it hadn't been better to make it a clean kill, quick and easy, not long and lingering.
Those questions were for later, though. "Tonight, I am."
Wesley nodded as though he had some understanding. "You would have killed them all to protect Dawn."
"She's what's important," Spike said. "You want to talk about it?"
The other man stared at him. "Talk about what?"
"Whatever's botherin' you, mate," Spike replied.
Wesley fiddled with the dagger laying on the desk. "I'm fine."
"Right."
There was another long pause. "Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"If you had to make a hard decision, could you?"
Spike regarded the ex-Watcher with a steady gaze. "You talkin' 'bout Dawn? 'Bout lettin' something happen to her if I had to?"
"Yes. Something like that." Wesley wouldn't look at him.
Spike looked away. "I don't know," he confessed. "It would kill me, though."
"I had to make some difficult decisions in Pylea—where we were," Wesley said quietly. "Men died because of decisions that I made."
Spike sighed. "People die, sometimes for a good reason. Sometimes not. Sometimes by our own hands. It's the way of things. Did you have another choice?"
"No, I don't believe I did," Wesley replied. "Not if we were to win."
"Battle field decisions aren't easy," Spike said quietly. "An' you can't second-guess yourself later for it. 's not worth it."
"No, I don't suppose it is."
There was a companionable silence, and then Spike said, "You know, after all this is over, you ever need help—"
"I'll let you know."
"I'll owe you."
They waited and watched.
~~~~~
Buffy watched Glory and Willow fly apart, watched as Tara seemed to shake herself, come back to herself. They'd followed the blonde witch to the tower the Hellgod had built, obviously in hope that she would find her Key in time.
No such luck.
The Slayer waited for the coast to be clear, casting a glance over at Giles and Xander, who were setting up the bomb at the base of the tower. As it was being built in a demolition site anyway, it shouldn't matter if they took it down the hard way. Or, actually, the easy way. It was not only an eyesore, but a public menace, and needed to be gotten rid of.
The plan, if you could call it that, was for Willow to do her mojo, and then for Buffy to get a workout with the Dagon Sphere and troll hammer. Once she'd softened the Hellgod up, they'd get the hell out of there and blow the tower, hopefully removing all the crazy people while they were at it.
Hopefully. At the moment, Buffy was more worried about keeping Glory busy until the window of opportunity for her to use the Key had passed. Sometimes you had to make the hard decisions.
"What the frickin' hell did that bitch do to me?" Glory demanded. "She—she made a hole. Ugh. I need a brain." The Hellgod staggered a bit, catching sight of Buffy. "Yours will do."
"Come and get it," Buffy invited. Glory stared at her, obviously thrown for a loop. "You know, you don't look so hot."
"That little witch-bitch gave me a little headache, but if you think this is going to take more than eight seconds," Glory said, stripping off her outer robe.
Buffy raised an eyebrow. "You know, I'm hearing a lot of words, but I'm not seeing a lot of action."
Glory sprang, but Buffy cracked her across the face, sending her flying. The Hellgod came after her again, and again the Slayer beat her back. "You're not blurry with the speed."
"That witch—"
"Not the witch," Buffy replied, smiling. "But maybe this?" she suggested, holding up the Dagon Sphere.
"You—"
"Me," Buffy replied cheerfully. "Catch."
Glory caught the orb out of sheer instinct, and its inner light flared. Buffy could see the Hellgod stumble yet again and clutch her side, and the Slayer took the opportunity to pick up the troll hammer. By the time she'd turned back around, Glory had crushed the sphere in her hand, and looked ready to do the same thing to Buffy.
"Nice try, but don't think that's going to stop me from killing you," the Hellgod stated.
The Slayer smiled. "Maybe not. But this might." With a mighty swing, she hit Glory right in the middle, sending her soaring through the air, past a number of minions, and into one of the supports for the tower. The shaky structure shuddered. "Xander!"
"It's ready," he called back, his voice magically enhanced by Willow. The others were well away, and during the distraction had managed to herd a number of the crazy people away from danger. As for the rest, well, Buffy was trying not to think too hard about them.
It couldn't be helped.
Buffy took off running, hearing Glory's howl of frustration behind her, followed closely by a loud explosion. The concussion from the blast caused her to stumble, but Xander had done a pretty good job with his bomb. It took out one of the legs, but didn't cause much damage otherwise.
Except, of course, for the fact that the tower couldn't remain standing without one of its supports. And Glory was buried under the rubble.
~~~~~
Though Glory had missed her opportunity to return home, and in so doing remove all the barriers between the worlds, Giles wasn't going to take any chances. The Slayer had immediately headed for L.A., but he had gone back to the site of the battle, looking for one person in particular.
It actually didn't take him very long to find her.
No, to find him. Giles might not have recognized Ben as Glory's mortal host except that he was in the same place the Hellgod had disappeared, and he was wearing the same clothing that Glory had. Giles somehow found it less surprising than he might have.
Ben was gasping with pain, but Giles thought perhaps the man might survive if someone got him to the hospital quickly enough. He even said as much to the young man. "Then you'll help me," Ben gasped.
"No, you see, the Slayer couldn't do this," Giles said gently. Almost kindly, really. "She's different than you or me. Buffy is a true hero. But I think I would rather you not have the chance to bother her again."
It only took a minute to smother him, Giles' hand over Ben's mouth and nose. The injured man didn't struggle much, and it was over quickly—a gentle death, in a way.
~~~~~
It had been a day and a half since he'd killed their general, and Spike could tell that the Knights were beginning to get restless. Truth be told, he didn't quite expect them to restrain themselves, but Spike had expected them to recover a bit sooner.
If the Knights attacked, the plan was to spirit Dawn out through the sewers. Spike would take Fred with him, leaving Angel, Gunn, Wes and Cordy to fight, providing a distraction. No one commented on the futility of such a rear-guard action. Nor did anyone point out what would happen if Spike, Dawn and Fred were caught after they'd left.
Spike figured they were all hoping that the Slayer would take Glory out and then mop up the Knights of Byzantium as well.
For once, however, Fate (or luck, or God, or the Powers That Be) was with them. Early afternoon had Buffy striding through the door, one of the army's officers on her heels like a well-trained dog. The Slayer was pretty much ignoring him in favor of making sure her fiancé was alright.
"Spike." That one word carried a world of worry and relief. They found one another's arms in moments, hanging onto each other.
The Knight's voice echoed across the lobby. "The Beast—"
"Is dead," Buffy said flatly. "As is the human whose body she shared. It's done."
For just a moment, the man looked as though he wanted to protest, as though he wanted to ask for some kind of proof, but the momentary madness soon passed. (He was remembering the look in her lover's eyes, and had no desire to be gutted like a pig.) Instead, the Knight gave a short nod and then walked out of the lobby.
Buffy turned back to Spike. "It's done," she repeated.
Dawn was there a moment later, and Buffy gave her sister a hug before Spike asked urgently, "An' Tara? She's—"
"Fine," Buffy said with a smile. "She's fine. Willow's spell worked like a—well, a charm. They're making with the cuddles right now. Everybody's okay. The most damage anybody got was a few bumps and bruises."
Spike rested his forehead on hers. "Thank God," he murmured reverently, surprised to find his eyes misting over with tears. And then his lips were on hers, and their kiss might have gotten way out of hand except that several of the onlookers cleared their throats.
They broke off reluctantly, and Spike gave Angel a sheepish grin. "Sorry, mate."
"No, you're not," Angel corrected him, but his grin wasn't completely sour. He'd begun to let Buffy go a while back, and seeing her with Spike, as happy as she was—well, it put the cap on things.
It wasn't nearly as painful as he'd imagined it would be.
"Don't think you've met everyone, luv," Spike said, quickly introducing her to Gunn and Fred and re-introducing her to Wesley.
As the hotel began to buzz with a sense of completion and accomplishment, the vague sounds of the Knights of Byzantium leaving filtered in from outside.
It was finally done.
~~~~~
Giles had gone back to Revello Drive with Joyce, and she'd offered him tea and the use of her shower. Both were much appreciated.
He still felt half-sick with what he'd done, although Giles didn't regret his actions. He couldn't regret it, not when Glory was finished, never to bother them again. Not when the Knights had been stopped and Dawn was safe.
They were all safe.
The reunion was everything it should have been, although Giles thought he recognized the same look in Spike's eyes that might have been in his own. One never could reach into the darkness within oneself without consequences.
Buffy soon left with Spike, and Giles would be surprised if he saw her in the next couple days. Joyce insisted on making Dawn something to eat, and then the girl went upstairs, saying that she wanted to actually listen to some decent music for a change.
The quiet that fell was heavy. "Rupert, is everything okay?"
Giles hesitated. The act of murder wasn't something to be shared with your girlfriend. And yet, he thought Joyce might understand. "Glory's host wasn't dead when I found him."
Joyce did understand. She was a woman who could read between the lines easily enough. "You did what you needed to do to protect my daughter," she said softly. "And that's one of the reasons that I love you."
Giles looked over at her, surprised, and then he smiled, the tension draining out of him. "Thank you."
Joyce shook her head in response. "No, Rupert. Thank you for keeping her alive."
~~~~~
Entry from Dawn's diary:
It feels weird to be back home. It's like it's been months since we were here. I had to check my room right away and make sure everything was where it was supposed to be. It just felt like a really long time, though, because everything and everyone is the same.
Except me.
It's too bad we made it back to Sunnydale before school was out for the summer. We were only gone a few days, but I probably wouldn't have had to take finals if Glory hadn't come after Buffy so quick. But then those weird guys in armor would have attacked, and it could have gotten really scary, so this is better.
I heard Giles tell Mom that he'd killed the guy Glory lived in. I know I'm not supposed to listen in like that, but if I'd tried to leave they would have seen me, and that wouldn't have been any better. I guess the tower crashing down on Glory really hurt her, and then Giles just finished it up. I'm glad. I'm glad I don't have to worry about her anymore.
Tara's okay again, and we're back home. Sometimes I wonder if I'm not still just a little bit of a Key, but no one seems to know, or they're not telling me. I guess it doesn't really matter, though. Spike said what you do is more important than what you are, and he's right. Even if I am still the Key, I'm other things too. I'm a sister and a daughter and a friend. That's enough to keep anybody busy for a whole lifetime.
I guess Mom would say figuring that out means I'm growing up. I'll bet I'm way more mature than Buffy by now.
~~~~~
Buffy watched Spike unpack from the doorway of his bedroom. "Are you really okay?"
"I'm fine, luv," he replied, not turning to look at her. He'd assured himself of Tara's well being as soon as possible, heading over to her and Willow's place once they'd left the Summers' residence.
Buffy hadn't heard any part of their conversation, but it had been low and intense, with Tara doing much of the comforting. Assuaging Spike's guilt, Buffy was certain.
He had a larger load to carry now.
Angel had pulled her aside before they'd left, explaining what had happened, that Spike had killed a human in cold blood. "He didn't have a choice, Buffy," Angel had assured her. "If Spike hadn't done what he did, there's no way we would have been able to prevent them from attacking us." The vampire didn't add that they wouldn't have been able to beat the Knights back; he didn't need to.
The Slayer was a little surprised that she didn't care more, but Spike had more or less killed the general in self defense. Or, at least in Dawn's defense. The Knights had superior numbers, more weapons, and no problem with killing every single one of them.
"Spike, Angel told me what happened."
"You have a problem with it?"
Buffy came closer. "Spike, you saved my little sister's life and single handedly defeated an army of Renaissance Fair rejects. Where would my problem be?"
"I killed a man, Buffy." Spike turned to face her, his eyes serious. "In cold blood, an' I made sure it was gonna be a painful death. 's just—I wasn't sure I had it in me anymore. I'm not sorry," he added.
"I wouldn't have asked you to be," the Slayer responded.
Spike shook his head. "You don't understand, luv. I watched a man die by my own hand, an' I didn't feel a thing. I have this life, where 'm in love with a girl, an' plannin' on getting married. I have a job, an' it's all nice an' tidy. 's just a bit of a surprise to find I can spill a man's guts without blinkin' an eye. Makes me wonder how much has really changed."
Buffy frowned. "Everything has changed, Spike, and nothing. So you've got some darkness in you. So do I. We've both got a split life, one we live in the daylight and one we live after dark. If you didn't have it in you, how could I be with you? How could I know that you could take care of Dawn? I told you before that I love every part of you. I meant it. Now more than ever."
She was right, of course, Spike realized. They were the same—living two lives at once, knowing every moment was precious because their lives were so short. As Buffy's job was to protect the world, Spike's job—his real job—was to protect the ones he loved. It was a calling worthy of a hero.
Spike never believed he would wear that mantle. He rather thought his mother might be proud of him.
"I love you, Buffy," he murmured, and the gravity of his tone spoke volumes. Spike felt a great weight lift off him, knowing that this moment, in some sense, was all that mattered.
They were alive. They were in love. And they had grace
enough for today.
By enigmaticblue <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Don't sue.
Spoilers: I suppose through BtVS S5, but I'm doing some rearranging.
Summary: This is a sequel to "The Great Advantage of Being Alive." If you haven't read it, this one really won't make any sense. In any case, Spike's trying to find out what it means to be a man, and to fight at Buffy's side. Buffy's struggling with what it means to be the Slayer. Dawn wants to know if she's real, and Glory just really wants her Key back.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Archiving: The Sandlot, The Crypt, and anywhere else that already has my stuff.Otherwise, ask and it shall be given to you.
A/N: The title comes from a Pablo Neruda poem. The line actually goes "all
the graces of the daybreak" but I liked my pun.
Epilogue
When Buffy announced her intention, several weeks later, to take a vacation, no one raised an objection. She had, after all, finished up her second semester in college without failing a class, while at the same time defeating a god and taking care of her mother.
That wasn't something very many people could boast of.
Spike had managed to get signed on for the next academic year as the senior-year English and creative writing instructor at Sunnydale High. The fact that his first novel was about to be published had made for a rather good offer. (Not to forget the fact that he was a warm body already living in Sunnydale and used to its quirks. Teachers were difficult to find, never mind published ones.)
As Joyce was back at the gallery full-time, and everything else was back to normal, it was not a hardship for everyone to wave bon voyage. Especially as Buffy had commented that she deserved a break, no one had dared to disagree.
And so it was that the Slayer and her ex-vampire found themselves ensconced on a little beach in Cancun, soaking up the sun.
A warm climate was absolutely imperative, as Buffy had every intention of keeping Spike as unclothed as possible, and slapping the sunscreen on his still-fair skin often. Like, a lot.
Spike, for his part, had looked forward to time spent in the sun, forgetting as much as possible the darkness that was still inside him. Sunny days like this on the beach with his girl caused the horrors to seem rather far away.
"Do we have to go back?" Buffy asked on the fourth day. It was only the second day they'd been to the beach, since the first two days had been spent in their hotel room getting reacquainted in as many ways as possible.
Spike groaned. "Don't wanna talk about it. We've still got a few days, pet."
"Yeah, but it's not enough," she replied. "I mean, it'll be back to the real world, and slaying demons and vampires..."
As Buffy trailed off, Spike raised his head just enough to give her a lascivious grin. "Slaying's not so bad. Gets the blood going."
"You don't need any help to get the blood going," Buffy teased. Then, serious again, she said, "You know what I'm saying."
"I know what you're saying," Spike replied, rolling over to get a better look at her. "An' I wouldn't mind stayin' here forever myself, but you'd miss your mum and friends."
That was true enough, and Buffy knew that Spike would miss them too. "What if I moved in with you?" she suggested.
"Moved in?" Spike asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sure you want to share that apartment of mine?"
"We could look for one together," Buffy coaxed. Although her suggestion had been spur-of-the-moment, the idea had appeal. No longer would they need to catch stolen moments in the midst of busy schedules. They would actually be living together.
The thought of waking up next to Spike every morning definitely had appeal.
"What if you got tired of me?" he asked.
The Slayer rolled her eyes. "Not going to happen. Besides, don't you remember what it felt like when you spent a few days in L.A.? I want you around as much as possible."
Spike remembered. He also remembered the love-making that followed their separation. Let's just say that if he didn't find being away from Buffy so painful, Spike would plan on taking regular over-night trips. Turned out that "coming-home-sex" was better than "making-up-after-a-fight sex."
"Besides," Buffy added. "I know Mom wants to keep Giles around as much as possible, and if we're there, it doesn't make it much fun for them."
Spike considered the idea. There was still a small part of him that balked at living together before they were married, but he supposed that if she had his ring on her finger it was okay. And, he was getting used to waking up with her head on the pillow next to his. The thought was tempting.
"When we get back home, we should look for apartments then," Spike said finally. "Or houses."
"Houses?" Buffy squeaked, thinking of the kind of commitment that took. Not that she was afraid to make it, but still. A house. Who would have thought she might be buying a house with an ex-vampire?"
"Well, not for right away," he acknowledged. "But in a year or two. Should have enough money for a down-payment then. We could get married an' then buy a house."
Spike had pondered this a lot, had thought about what it might be like to set up housekeeping with the Slayer. He'd thought more about what it meant for him to have a job, to have a book accepted for publishing, to be with the woman he loved. Spike was aware, down deep, that by protecting Dawn he had helped to save the world again.
While the guilt over his past crimes was still difficult to bear, there had been entire days recently that he'd not given it a second thought.
Spike had decided that he liked being normal—or as normal as a person like him could ever get.
Buffy looked over at him, realizing that he was waiting for an opinion or an answer, or perhaps both. Suddenly, it didn't seem so strange that they might be talking about buying a house, or getting married. A year or two ago, the Slayer would have said she had only a few years to live. She would have hesitated to make such long-term plan.
As Spike had said, however, just because she was the Slayer, didn't automatically mean she couldn't grow old and have kids. It just made it a little more unlikely.
Life might be short and hard and brutal, but with Spike, it would be a good life.
"We should set a date when we get back home," Buffy suggested. "For the wedding, I mean."
Spike smiled. "Whatever you want, luv."
And on a Mexican beach, two people found themselves to be
perfectly happy.